


never no more

by SafelyCapricious



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 04:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4465991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SafelyCapricious/pseuds/SafelyCapricious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma isn’t sure if she’s actually dead or if her physical body is trapped – or if it’s actually her physical body walking around without her in it.</p><p>All she knows is that she’s incorporeal and has to be within about five hundred yards of her body and whoever is steering it. She’s tested this multiple times and always ends up in painpain<i>pain</i> if she pushes further than she can go. If she doesn’t walk when her body does then she just gets dragged along, her feet floating inches over the floor as she passes through walls and floors and everything else with ease.</p><p>Rock!Fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	never no more

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Patsy Cline -- which is absolutely what I've been listening to while writing this, which really makes no sense so I don't particularly recommend it as a soundtrack except for the whole "Patsy Cline is _excelent_ " bit.
> 
> There's some physical violence and some weird kind of non-con (check the end notes if you don't mind spoilers!)

Jemma isn’t sure if she’s actually dead or if her physical body is trapped – or if it’s actually her physical body walking around without her in it.

All she knows is that she’s incorporeal and has to be within about five hundred yards of her body and whoever is steering it. She’s tested this multiple times and always ends up in painpain _pain_ if she pushes further than she can go. If she doesn’t walk when her body does then she just gets dragged along, her feet floating inches over the floor as she passes through walls and floors and everything else with ease.

Learning that she can be on the floor above or below her body is a comfort, it hurts to see people interact with her as if she’s not _wrong_.

She tries for a whole month to warn everyone else that she’s clearly behaving erratically and not at all like herself. By week two she can arrange the magnets on the fridge.

Unfortunately the squirrel poetry does not make for a very clear explanation and she still can’t hold a pen.

It’s a little insulting, actually.

No one has noticed that she’s behaving even a little off – and she is! Or, rather, whoever is in her body is. And she’s not just talking about the little things like taking way more sugar in her tea or a tendency to use non-iodized salt – no, she’s a flirt and she looks at everyone like they’re prey. Not to mention the fact that she’s lying. Regularly. And about things that people can check – but they never call her on it.

And the language – oh it’s her voice but her word choice is completely off and it’s – everyone’s falling for it.

She likes to think that Fitz wouldn’t be. If not for the fact that anytime he looks even the slightest bit suspicious her body caresses him or kisses him or, well, other things.

So he’s hopeless.

And then HYDRA invades. Oh, not the main base, but her body is at an offshoot base doing science that she’s sure Coulson would not approve of. Not that anyone asks or even checks in to see what it is.

It’s been four months at this point, and Jemma is actually glad when corporeal-she ends up with her hands handcuffed behind her back and led from the room. Before she gets dragged along behind she specifically manages to put drops of bleach in everything other-her was working on. She can only manage a drop at a time and it takes a massive amount of concentration, but she can do that and so she does – she doesn’t trust whatever is driving her maybe body to have anyone’s best interests at heart.

She’s actually a little worried about what her body might do within HYDRA, but at least it’s a change of pace. And she’s further away from her friends, which she hopes, diminishes the chances of her hurting them.

Plus if she never has to see her body distracting Fitz with sex acts again it will be too soon.

Her body is led to a comfortable office and pushed down into a chair in front of it. Jemma wrinkles her nose, a bit aghast at how little surveillance is left on her body, and starts to drift around the room examining it.

There’s a picture of a chocolate lab on the mantelpiece that she spends a few minutes cooing over.

When she looks up again Ward is behind the desk, staring at her body with a puzzled expression on his face.

Out of habit she speaks, even knowing no one will hear her. “That’s not me, Ward. That’s an alien artifact who is either wearing my body or made a fake one – I’m a bit hazy on the details.”

She pokes at the paperweight but can’t move it at all, before sighing and slouching back against nothing.

Her body sticks out its lower lip and asks, in an upsettingly husky voice, “What are you going to do to me?”

Ward leans forward and rests his chin on his palm. “That depends.”

Jemma fake gags in the corner when her body shifts its weight, pretending it’s out of discomfort from the cuffs but clearly in order to push her chest forward a bit more. “On what?” her body asks, still husky.

Ward continues to watch her body, expressionless, for a long moment before leaning back and lacing his fingers together. “On what you’ve done with Simmons.”

Jemma flails hard enough that she accidentally falls through the wall – dragging herself back through immediately so she doesn’t miss more.

Her body is pouting, now, but there’s something decidedly cold and dead behind the eyes and Jemma waves her hands through the air in front of her face and says, “Ha! Ha!” Then she turns to stare at Ward who’s looking through her to stare at her body and she points a ghostly finger at him and says, “Bloody hell, Ward! I still hate you, but I could kiss you right now. You’re a beautiful observant paranoid megalomaniac!”

She lets out one last bark of laughter before backing up. Her body and Ward are still in a stare off and, she is pleased to note, Ward looks deeply unimpressed by the pout her body is aiming his way.

Finally her body speaks, voice a little less husky finally. “I don’t know what you mean, Grant. I _am_ Simmons.”

Ward scoffs and crosses his arms. “You’re not even _trying_. Now, tell me what you’ve done with Simmons.”

Her body tilts it’s chin up and she simply repeats, to all questions, that she is Simmons.

Then four men come into the room, all in tactical gear.

Jemma can’t look when one of them steps forward, pushes her body forward and grabs her hand, but she can clearly hear the crack of something breaking – and then she’s in painpain _pain_. When she looks down at her ghostly hand she can see that her finger is broken and she lets out a sob.

Her body doesn’t make a noise.

Well.

That probably answers the question as to if it’s actually her body or not.

She can’t look to see if they’re going to do it again – part of her wants to, will seeing it coming make it hurt any less?, but she can’t. Instead she stares down at her hand, cradling it to her chest. At least they went with the pinky on her left hand. It’s a small kindness and one she wasn’t expecting, but it means if it doesn’t get set properly it won’t interfere too terribly with her work.

She squeezes her eyes shut when she hears the scuff of a combat boot – and then Ward snaps, “Stop,” and she jerks her head up to look at him.

He’s staring at her body, eyes cold, and it should terrify her that he’s looking at _her_ like that, but she’s just glad that someone, finally, isn’t falling for it. “That didn’t hurt you at all, did it?”

And now she glances at her body and sees that she’s still pouting – maybe didn’t even realize something was broken that she couldn’t see.

Ward makes a gesture that seems to translate as an order to his men as they haul her to her feet and start to drag her out of the room. Jemma stays, still cradling her hand, for as long as she can, observing Ward, before the tether pulls her after her body.

Her body is led to a small cell – and when Jemma slips out to see what she can reach in her allowed room a medic is walking in, presumably to set her finger. And, sure enough, when she’s poking at the small fridge in the guard’s room her finger suddenly straightens – not without pain – and then is held stiffly there, although she can’t see anything holding it in place. She’s disappointed to see that there is nothing she can manipulate within her reach.

Still, it’s nice to be able to avoid her body. And there is a little telly in the guard’s room. The guards, it turns out, have questionable taste in television shows (really, who actually prefers All My Children to One Life to Live?) but it’s something to keep her entertained, so she appreciates it.

The only time she goes into the cell with her body is when someone else does. And she has to hand it to Ward, he is definitely taking this seriously. There are scientists who take samples, psychiatrists and psychologists, and even a whole show of good cop/bad cop – though nothing gets broken this time.

It’s been nearly three weeks when Ward shows up again, and Jemma, curious, follows him in.

He sits very close to the bars and tilts his head, legs spread wide. “Are you going to tell me where Simmons is, yet?”

Her body sniffs and tilts her head up, before saying, “I _am_ Simmons.”

Ward rolls his eyes and leans back, before saying in a friendly voice, “No, you’re not. But I also don’t think you understand – she tried to kill me the last time I saw her. I’m sure you can understand that I might want a little revenge.”

Her body shifts forward, eyes sharp and intent. “Then I have good news for you – this is her body and she’ll never bother you again. So you can call off this hunt and let me go.”

Jemma grinds her teeth and tries to punch the bars of the cage, though it does no good. “Don’t listen to it, Ward. I’m right _here_!”

Ward tilts the chair back on two legs and lets out a gusty sigh before dropping back and rubbing at his face, the friendly persona he’d had moments ago gone. Jemma’s chest goes tight, she’s not sure what his play is but she’s sure he just made it and – oh god, what will happen to her if he kills her body?

He lets out another gusty breath and then taps his ear. “Destroy it.”

Her body sits forward, looking alarmed. “What are you destroying?”

Ward arches an eyebrow and stands up. “Well, the stone you came out of. If Simmons isn’t alive and stuck in it then there’s no reason to keep it undamaged.”

Her body flies at the bars – the jolt stings through Jemma and she’s left gasping and half fallen through the floor – snarling in a language Jemma doesn’t know. Ward is just barely outside of her reach, and watching, coolly.

Jemma doesn’t know what’s going to happen, and she doesn’t have long to dwell on it before her world is bright blinding light and painpainpainpain _pain_.

She comes awake with a gasp – everything aches.

Her eyes flutter and there’s something – she’s collapsed against the bars of the cage and she can _feel_ it, cold metal against her cheek and she starts to sob.

She doesn’t try to move more, just enjoys having weight and muscle and existence.

There’s a sigh from in front of her and when she looks up through swimming eyes it’s to see Ward staring down at her, frowning. “I’d really hoped that was going to kill you.”

She lets out a hysterical laugh and claps a hand over her mouth. She doesn’t try to get up – she’s not sure she remembers how legs work and just reminding herself to breathe is hard enough. It takes a moment to get herself under control, and when she does she can’t help but smile up at him and say, “Ward! I still hate you and you need so much therapy I’m pretty sure I could get a third doctoral thesis out of you alone – but you are by far my favorite sociopath – _thank_ _you_ so much.”

He takes a small step forward and tilts his head down, frowning at her. "Simmons?"

**Author's Note:**

> The "weird kind of non-con" is that the rock, while inhabiting Jemma's body, engages in non explicit sex that Jemma isn't capable of consenting to (since she's not in the body at all), but that she also doesn't have to watch necessarily. Though she absolutely knows it's happening. 
> 
> You can find my writing tumblr [here](http://capriciouswrites.tumblr.com/). <3 Prompts are always welcome!


End file.
